


All the Wonders I Have Seen

by pygmymeese



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Baby Katsuki-Nikiforov, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Kid Fic, Parents Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, they have a baby and they just STARE AT HER THAT'S IT THAT'S THE PLOT, viktor and yuuri have a baby okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28024689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pygmymeese/pseuds/pygmymeese
Summary: Sometimes it felt like the sweetest dream, all this love Viktor and Yuuri share.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 14
Kudos: 55





	All the Wonders I Have Seen

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, but all the wonders I have seen, I will see a second time  
> From inside of the ages through your eyes.
> 
> — Brandi Carlile, "The Mother"

Viktor was kneeling by the bed, head resting on a stack of pillows at the edge. A pile of duvets was crushed in a mess beneath his knees. Against the back wall, the curtains were drawn over windows that looked out over their quiet little corner of Saint Petersburg, where all but the streetlights were sleeping in the late hour. The lamp on the nightstand was on, but even it was muted by a carefully folded swaddle draped over the top of the lampshade. The shadows of the room lay still, and the only sound was the soft whir of a space heater, the occasional metal clank as accompaniment. 

Yuuri leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and tipped his head until it rested on the edge, too. “Vitya,” he whispered. 

Viktor straightened up, a languorous curl to his spine, hand still stretched towards the center of the king-sized bed. He twisted his chest around to see his husband. Some of his silver hair—growing long again—caught against his shoulder, fanning itself into a little waterfall towards his back. He’d already slipped on his pale pink robe for the night; it pooled along his calves on the floor, bright against the dark blue blankets. The yellowing light gleamed against his hair, his skin, his tender smile. If Yuuri had a frame to hold up against the scene, it would be lauded as a masterclass of art: intimate chiaroscuro for the ages.

“You’re back,” Viktor said, voice low. 

Yuuri closed the door behind him just enough for a sliver of the hallway’s cold light to cut against a wall, slanted as far away as it could be from the gossamer moment in front of him. As he stepped into the room, the wash of warmth he felt against his face enveloped him whole.

“Why is this room blistering?” Yuuri wrinkled his nose at the dry air and crossed his arms. 

Viktor turned back toward the bed. “I think she was cold.”

As he moved closer, he saw Viktor clutching their daughter’s hand, five of her perfect fingers curled around a single one of his. She still wasn’t as pudgy as either of them expected—was not even close to what her grandparents wanted. But she’d come into the world so small. The amount of weight she picked up in the nearly three months since was enough for them.

She was their daughter. Anything she could ever do would be more than enough for them.

She snuffled and let go of Viktor’s hand, throwing her tiny arms up by her head. As she burrowed her head into the mattress with an extra snort, the hat covering the tips of ears slipped askew. Viktor reached out and gently tucked her ear back under. 

Yuuri let his hand rest on Viktor’s shoulder. The strands of his hair slid like silk across the back of his hand. “She’s not sleeping in the bassinet because…?”

“We have the finest mattress in all of Russia, Yurotchka,” he said, gaze never averting from his child. He raised his own hand—the one that had been in his daughter’s grip moments ago—to hold onto Yuuri’s on his shoulder. “How could I let her sleep on such an unfeeling pile of cardboard when I could give her this luxury?”

“Are you going to sleep in the bassinet instead?”

Viktor looked up at Yuuri and pouted. “If I’m really careful, we can all use the bed—“

“You can’t even sleep on the same bed as _me_ without rolling onto me like a heavy, bony octopus.”

“Heavy!” he protested.

Yuuri pulled his hand free of Viktor’s and tucked his husband’s hair behind his ear with a feather light touch. “A very beautiful, heavy, bony octopus.”

Viktor turned back to the bed with a haughty sniff. “That’s different, anyway.”

“How?”

“Even in my dreams, I can’t resist being on top of you. Or the other way around, but I don’t control where you end up in your sleep.”

Yuuri’s face burned. Years of marriage couldn’t take away the embarrassment he still felt at Viktor’s obvious desire when he wasn’t prepared to hear it. _"Vitya.”_

Viktor ran his hand back and forth next to the baby, never getting close enough to accidentally jolt her awake well before her next feeding. “My time will come soon, my sweetest child,” he whispered to her. “You’re going to be too old for that sad little bassinet and then my time for proper cuddling will arrive.”

“Don’t think you can conveniently forget to put the crib together, either.”

“I would _never."_

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. 

“Fine, I would never when our little crumb is at risk of being crushed by a terrible, _heavy_ creature if she has nowhere else to sleep at night.”

“Your point has been made,” Yuuri said, voice dry. 

Viktor flashed a cheeky grin at him. “I thought you’d see it my way.” 

It always stole Yuuri’s breath, these spikes of desire that overwhelmed his senses and loosened his chest in turn. All Viktor had to do was be himself and Yuuri was gone. He bent over, helpless for a kiss. Viktor obliged. They didn’t linger, a sweet, short promise of life and love distilled into the quick press of their practiced lips.

With a final brush of his hand against the bed, still not disturbing the baby, Viktor pushed himself off the ground, gratefully accepting Yuuri’s arm as he straightened his stiff knees. Something somewhere in his body cracked ominously.

Yuuri tucked himself against Viktor’s warm body and slid his other arm around his waist. Viktor absently put his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders, rubbing his bicep. 

They stood at the side of the bed, quiet, content. 

“She is ours,” Viktor said. Not once since she’d come home had the awe left his voice. Not when her hands tugged out his hair. Not when she screamed from hunger and still refused to drink her bottle. Not when Yuuri himself was in tears, tired and cold at 3 am. He held himself with an equanimity more graceful than all his skating, a deliberate joy he threaded through each day of their lives even when his mind railed against it—Yuuri loved him. He loved him so much, it spilled out of his veins to flood the room and _they had a daughter together._

Yuuri pinched Viktor’s side. “Remember that in an hour when you get to break your beauty sleep to feed her.”

_“Yuuri.”_

Yuuri couldn’t help but nuzzle further into Viktor’s chest, laughing silently. “And we’re hers, too.”

Viktor dropped a kiss on Yuuri’s forehead. “And we’re hers.” 

**Author's Note:**

> immediately after:
> 
> “Well, did you get the goods?” Viktor waggled his eyebrows, leaning his full weight onto his husband. Yuuri bent back, yielding enough that Viktor loomed over him, Yuuri’s other hand clutching at his chest.
> 
> “They were out of your favorite jam—”
> 
> “No! How dare they do this to me!”
> 
> “—but I did pick up some pirozhki on the way back.”
> 
> “My husband treats me so well!” He pulled away from Yuuri as if to leave.
> 
> “Aren’t you forgetting something?” At Viktor’s confused look, Yuuri gazed pointedly towards the bed. 
> 
> “Ah.”
> 
> “Should’ve put her in the bassinet to begin with, hm?”
> 
> Panic built in Viktor’s eyes. “Yuuri, I can’t move her, what if she wakes up? She’s been so tired all day, she deserved a luxury nap on our bed! Ah, but I want my pirozhki before it gets cold, but I can't leave her on the bed and don’t want to move her to her bassinet…Yurotchka, my darling husband, my life and love—”
> 
> “Go lay next to her. I’ll bring you the food.”
> 
> • can y'all tell i just moved away from my baby nieces and miss them aggressively? no? just me? uh, okay, i guess.
> 
> • title is also v. close but not quite the same as lyrics from "Cecilia and the Satellite" by Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness
> 
> • low key mad at myself for writing perpetually incomplete fanfic since 2014ish and the first thing i actually post on AO3 is something i started AND finished in the past two weeks. this fic did not respect its elders :/
> 
> • if you wanna chat, i'm shinsousbedroom on tumblr and twitter. both are a bit bare, but i lurk hard, and plan on reviving them sooner than later
> 
> • as ever, black & indigenous lives matter, in the US and across the globe. shout out to all y'all marginalized communities navigating violence and nationalisms. keep your head up, eyes open, and heart full & take care of yourself
> 
> • also seriously, go drink a glass of water and have a snack if you just realized you haven't in a while


End file.
